Indisposed
by TheClumsyHero
Summary: Dr. Henry Jekyll was always known to be a hard-working man, but this isn't always the best of traits. With his constant workload and poor self-care skills, it was only a matter of time before Jekyll would find himself falling ill. It takes a certain chubby-cheeked man to get him to rest.


A heavy feeling hung thick in the air, though the exact nature of it was undetermined. It was in the early evening that Rachel had picked up on the odd shift just as dinner was slid into the oven. Nothing of interest had come up throughout the course of the day, and so she had pushed the feeling aside for the time being. A rattling had caught her attention, and it caused her to swing around on her heels, wide eyes catching the flick of a cape before the figure disappeared behind a cupboard. She approached the blonde as he rummaged around, a grin painted over her lips.

"Good evening, Master Hyde. What exactly are you looking for?"

Hyde had seemed to jump out of his skin at the sound of her voice and his head snapped to the side to meet with her. Something about his appearance sent a chill down her spine, aside from the typical one people seemed to get when viewing him. His usual vibrant eyes seemed glassy and distant. She also noted he was more irritable than usual.

"What? Oh, cup. A cup! A need a damn cup and I can't find a single bloody one." His voice sounded tired, perhaps the slightest bit hoarse. Had he been yelling?

"Doesn't Dr. Jekyll have a glass in his room?"

"I'm not using his wine glasses for a glass of water! And I'm determined to find a damn glass at this point."

While his argument seemed flimsy, she decided it was best not to mention it. He just wanted to be difficult, she decided and, instead, she left him kneeling on the counter while she glided off to retrieve the object he wanted.

"Here you are."

Once more he swiveled around to catch a glimpse of the woman before he swiped the glass from her hand and moved to retrieve water for himself which he then greedily downed. Rachel took this time to examine him; she noted the paleness of his skin, the flush of his face. It caused worry to grow in the pit of her stomach.

"Are you feeling alright?"

The question only seemed to aggravate the green-clad man, leading his brows to knit and his cup to be placed down forcefully, causing a thud to resound in the kitchen.

"I'm perfectly fine, just as I always am. And I'm heading out now for a long night on the town."

"Really? Are you sure you don't want to stay around for dinner?"

Hyde had trailed over to the entrance of the kitchen, his eyes fixed on the path ahead of him as he walked.

"I'm fine."

Before he could leave, however, he promptly stopped and turned his head so that half his flushed face was exposed.

"Dr. Jekyll won't be joining you for dinner, either. He's out this evening and terribly busy. I doubt you'll see him at all." A smirk crossed his features; however, it wasn't of the same nature Rachel had grown accustomed to.

Before she could say a word, he was gone, leaving her staring at an empty doorway with her head spinning.

"Something's going on and I don't like it."

But with Mr. Hyde, there was nothing anyone could do but wait.

The splash of a puddle was one of the few sounds that could be heard on this London night. The air was cold, and yet a particular man found himself burning up. He fell some time ago, and of his own volition never the less. His face had been firmly pressed against the cool sidewalks covered in a dusting of snow. It felt wonderful against the heat of his burning skin.

"For God's sake, Hyde, get up." The shadow of Jekyll loomed over the weakened body, but Hyde made no effort to move. He, instead, remained firmly in place.

"Hyde! Get up off the disgusting ground!"

"I can't. I don't have the strength."

"I told you to reschedule, told you it wasn't worth it, but you insisted. I don't know why I listen to you. 'I won't be sick, I have a strong constitution.' You have no idea what being ill is like."

"Are you calling me weak, Doctor?"

"I'm calling you inexperienced. And stop speaking aloud, who knows if anyone is listening. Now get up off the ground and get home."

Hyde couldn't comprehend how this night had gotten so far away from him. He had been having a wonderful time, despite the dull thrumming in the back of his head and the dryness in his throat. It was nothing Edward Hyde couldn't deal with, and so he went on despite the doctor's warnings. While scrounging from dirty bar to dirty bar, Hyde had slowed his pace to enjoy the cool flurries of snow against his skin. A wave of vertigo had snuck up on the caper and struck him-struck him hard. Finally, he had given up on trying to remain upright and allowed himself to become well acquainted with the street.

With a final sigh of indignation, Hyde pushed himself up from the snow-covered floor and got back onto his feet, beginning his tired shuffle back to the society.

"When we get back I'll tell you what to take to take some of the edge off." Henry mused, though it seemed Hyde was having none of it.

"I'm over this, you can have the body for now. It's your fault, anyhow."

"Everything is always my fault." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, "How is this possibly my fault?"

"It's your bloody immune system!"

"Stop yelling, you're going to make us look like a lunatic."

"Well, I'm feeling a bit loony."

"Just shut it and get us home."

Although indignant, Hyde did as he was told and while it may have taken some time to do so, he eventually returned to the Society. It was an enormous hassle trying to pull himself up the steps and into their own quarters. While he wanted nothing more to throw himself on their bed and sleep until all had passed he was determined to pass the reins.

"Bottoms up, Jekyll. Enjoy this one."

Hyde didn't need to see the reflection in the mirror to know Jekyll's eyes had nearly rolled into the back of his head. He just took the concoction and allowed it to work its magic.

When Henry regained control of his body he was sure he wouldn't be able to keep himself upright. A strong hand had gripped at the edge of his desk and his breathing hitched. He had sidled along the side and carefully placed himself down in his chair while the swirling world subsided.

"I wasn't over exaggerating." The voice from the mirror droned and Jekyll could hear the smile on his smug face.

There was no need for a response, he cared more about checking off all he felt and coming up with a way to manage his symptoms. Lightheadedness, a creeping sense of nausea, no doubt a fever, what with the sweat forming on his brow, and a pounding headache making his thoughts fuzzy and hard to follow at times. The most vivid thought in his mind, however, was how on Earth he would survive a day of work feeling as he did. Jekyll always wanted to consider himself to be stronger than Hyde, but if the devil himself couldn't hold out a night in this condition, how was Henry expected to last a full day without arousing suspicion?

Jekyll supposed he did have it coming, and while it pained him to admit such internally, it most likely was his fault this nasty bug came to him. He couldn't recall the last time he slept, nor the last time he ate a proper meal aside from the ones he received at banquets; it would be rude not to eat and it was terribly important to keep up appearances. His own health and needs were typically set on the back burner. Now it was coming back to bite him, and this beast bit hard.

Slowly but surely, he pulled himself up from his chair and made his way over to his medicine cabinet, searched around for whatever he could take. While his body begged for sleep, Jekyll, instead, decided to be less professional in his endeavors and mixed medicines. Hyde watched in subtle horror as he crossed liquids and downed them one by one.

"Slow down, Jekyll, there are better ways to off yourself."

The liquid burned, and Jekyll shook his head as if trying to shake away the feeling and taste before responding.

"Can't mess up any more than I already have." The words were sharp, and Hyde smirked in response, watching as he slid himself back down in his chair, and moved to rub at his tired eyes.

It would be a long night, but he would survive. Henry Jekyll was a stubborn man, and he'd certainly withstood more than this before.

Rachel had been particularly off-put on this day, at least that was what Lanyon had noted as she paced to and fro, as if debating on whether to divulge what was on her mind. Lanyon had sighed, and he moved to steal a glance at the time, carefully sliding the watch back into his pocket.

"Rachel, if there is something you need to tell me then just tell me."

"Well—I know you're not typically interested in his business, but I'm somewhat concerned for him."

"I assume you are speaking of Edward."

"Yes, yes but it also relates to Dr. J. There is something odd going on and I figure you would be the one to make sense of things."

"Well?"

"Well, Master Hyde showed up last night and he's usually picking at something or another in the kitchen, but he was just irritable—more so than usual. He didn't even decide to make any grandiose exit, just shuffled out the door." Compared to his typical dramatic shows this had been more than lackluster. "Anyway, I thought maybe something had happened between him and Henry. So, I went to his office but he wouldn't allow me in."

"That isn't entirely unlike Henry. You know how busy he gets at times."

"Well, yes, but he didn't ignore me. He slid a note under the door asking me to bring him tea and just leave it outside. It was all very strange and I'm just worried about the two of them."

This seemed to concern Lanyon; both his expression and demeanor shifted.

"You don't think Edward did something?"

Rachel was startled by the very accusation and stopped dead in her tracks, turned, and was soon staring up at Robert.

"Of course not! Mr. Hyde wouldn't harm a fly! I think they may have had some disagreement or something along those lines. I just want to make sure everything is alright."

Lanyon breathed a rather uneven sigh and finally met with the girl's green, and overly passionate, eyes. It was rather unlike Henry to act in such a way; it was a behavior he had not seen in some time. While he didn't want to show it, there was concern building up in his chest. After holding their gaze for a few fleeting moments, Lanyon turned, and a hand adjusted the tie around his neck.

"I'll check on him, I doubt very highly he will turn me away. And I'll certainly make him regret it if he does."

With that thought in mind, Lanyon had made his way toward his friend's office, a sinking feeling ever present in the pit of his stomach. The sight of Henry's door was a daunting one; he didn't know what he expected to see but he did expect it wouldn't be anything pleasant. He rose a hand and, after a moment of hesitation, gave a few loud knocks on Jekyll's door. Silence withheld, and it did not settle the nerves in Lanyon's stomach.

"Henry? Are you in there?" Silence. Worry. "Henry, could you at least give me an answer? Rachel is worried about you and I am finding that I am increasingly concerned."

When silence still withheld, he had debated breaking down the door himself but, and he was immensely grateful for such, it had not come to it. While his voice lacked its typical rigor, Henry called back.

"Come in, Robert."

He breathed a sigh of relief, but it was a fleeting one. He pushed open the doors to reveal the typical darkened room, its inhabitant sitting before his desk and a swarm of paperwork as was typical with Henry. What had killed his sense of relief was the state he found the good doctor in.

"Good Lord, Henry. You look dreadful."

And he certainly did; he was not the well put together man Lanyon was so used to seeing. His tidy brown locks were wild, with some of his bangs sticking to his damp forehead. His skin was pale, and his face flushed. He had no idea how on earth he was still upright based on appearance alone, he couldn't imagine just how horribly he felt.

"I can always expect a lovely comment from you, Robert." Henry attempted to force a smile, but it seemed to fall flat, only furthering his concern.

"It seems no number of pretty smiles and gentle persuasion can get me out of this one, hm? No, I'm not exactly feeling my best."

"Well, isn't that just the understatement of the year?" The gruff voice called from the mirror behind him, but Jekyll simply let it hit and fall.

"Henry, when was the last time you ever felt at your best? I swear you sleep less then any other person I've ever known. Is this why you've been locked up in here?"

"I don't want anyone to worry. It's nothing incredibly serious but obviously I don't exactly look presentable for the time being. It is nothing I cannot handle."

"Henry." Lanyon's voice was one full of skepticism as he approached his friend, and he wasted no time shoving a hand onto his forehead.

He quickly recoiled, amazed at the heat coming from his being.

"You may as well be on fire at this point! Henry, what are you thinking? You are a doctor, you know better than anyone you are in no condition to be working."

"Robert, I know my body better than anyone else does."

He had Hyde both scoffed at the notion and it nearly pulled a frown onto Henry's face.

"Henry, you could be torn limb from limb and you'd still insist you were fit to work, so forgive me if I'm not exactly eager to believe your claims. You need to rest."

Rest; rest was a word that didn't belong in Henry Jekyll's vocabulary. He could rest when he was dead, no, Henry had no time for rest. His work dominated in his life and he would have been willing to lay down that life for said work. The thought of him resting over a virus was something completely irrational for the doctor. He had an organization to run, had lodgers to think of and care for, had another individual who also had to be constantly taken into account. Even these thoughts swirling around in his head made him sway in his seat. No, there was no rest for the wicked and Henry Jekyll was a testament to that statement.

Robert noticed the sway in his body and it caused a frown to cross his own features. He would do nobody any good while in this current state. It was what caused him to take a stand.

"Henry Jekyll, you will be taking the rest of today off."

Hyde cracked a wind grin with the demand, and a laugh resounded.

"Really? And what does he plan on doing?" The blonde mused, and Henry soon added to the conversation.

"Really now, Robert, don't be ridiculous."

"You didn't let me finish. Henry Jekyll, you will be taking the rest of the day off or I will be informing all the lodgers how terribly ill you are. If you think you are getting anything done after that, well you must be mad."

This had left Henry completely taken back; even Hyde was surprised by the threat. Perhaps he wasn't as dreadful as he initially thought. Granted, he still didn't like him—he still disliked him very greatly, but it was clever nonetheless.

Henry finally broke. Robert watched the shift, saw the complete exhaustion rush his features and saw the extent of his illness.

"These things need to get done, Robert."

"Right now? Surely you can wait. And if you really need help, Henry, I'm always around to do so! I know I take a somewhat distant relationship with the society at times, but I am always here to be your friend and to assist you when need be." Robert had placed a firm hand on his friend's shoulder and Henry seemed to lean into the touch. "People have died from what you have, you of all people should know to take things seriously."

"You know, I liked it better when you came over and drank with me to make it social." The pair smiled with the comment, and a cough racked Henry's body, causing Lanyon's grip to momentarily tighten. "All jokes aside, I know. But, you know me. I push myself. You have won me over." Henry pulled himself from his seat after such, and Lanyon's grip never left him as he swayed and made his way over to his bed.

It was when he finally sat down on the plush bed did he realize just how exhausted he truly was. He didn't have it in him to change from the damp clothes, and so he simply kicked off his shoes and removed his vest. He had already ditched many of his layers, so he moved to unbutton some of his top buttons, all the while Lanyon worked to clean the work on his desk. When Henry's head hit the pillow, he found his thoughts begin to swim into a sea of irrelevance. Lanyon's presence and voice were far away, but some part of his mind made sense of it.

"Do you want me to bring you some tea?"

Henry digested the question, and his eyes glanced around the room.

"What time is it? I can take more medicine around dinner."

Robert smiled at the exhausted face of his friend. He couldn't recall a time he had ever seen Henry so out of it before, nor looking so incredibly disarming. It was no secret Henry could be terrifying if the need should arise and now all the walls had been torn down. He would leave him to his rest.

"I'll bring you something in a while, then. Sleep well, Henry."

Before Robert exited the room, he was halted by one last word.

"Robert."

He turned around to meet his friend's gaze.

"Thank you."

A small smile graced Lanyon's face as he turned on his heels once more and left his friend to sleep after God knows how long.

"When was the compress last changed?"

"Yeck! It's hot!"

"Who forgot to get a new one?"

"Did someone get the tea?"

"He's waking up!"

"Shh!"

When crimson eyes pulled themselves open he was met with a swarm of scientists around his bed, staring with worried expressions. Henry stared blankly at the faces and his features remained unmoving. His eyes, however, scanned over until they met with a particular chubby-cheeked man who appeared overly flustered. Henry hadn't even needed to open his mouth for Lanyon to know what was coming.

"I'm sorry Henry I asked Rachel if she would put a kettle on and she asked what happened and she was the one who sent me up here, so I told her the circumstances. Only one of the lodgers over heard, said individual refuses to divulge their identity, and it spread like wildfire. They practically shoved their way in."

Henry finally pulled his gaze from his friend and took in all of the eyes locked on his form. While he couldn't stand being seen in such a weak state, while this was something completely foreign to him and although it was contrary to what he had wanted he found himself laughing ever so slightly before being taken by a cough. It was amazing to him to see just how much all of these individuals cared for him. It was something he should have known, but physically seeing it—seeing everyone before him left him feeling overjoyed. He watched as smiles bloomed across the other faces, and another gentle laugh managed to escape him.

And then his expression shifted.

"Bucket." The word was spat out without hesitation.

"Bucket?"

"Did he say bucket?"

"BUCKET."

"MOVE OUT OF THE WAY!" Rachel had shoved her way past the crew and soon placed a bucket straight into the doctor's lap.

Henry leaned forward, hands immediately gripping the sides of the bucket, his head plunging within. He began to wretch and that had been enough to cause the crowd to back off, all accept Rachel and Lanyon—Lanyon, who was currently patting Henry's back and muttering some gentle words to him.

"Thank you—" he managed to sputter between the heaving that plagued his body.

"Just take it easy, Henry. It will be fine."

"Disgusting."

He wanted to glare at Hyde but hardly had the energy to flop back down.

While the next week would be a hard one, and Henry would most likely be confined to his bed, he was grateful he had so many people surrounding him and caring for his wellbeing. Being sick was pitiful and unpleasant, but it at least gave him a reminder that he lived with a group of people who cared deeply for him.

In a darkened mind, one constantly reminding him of what a failure he was, how fake he was, it was a pleasant reminder to know that he had a group of people around to support him. He could never divulge the truth, but he would remain thankful regardless.

"If you haven't noticed you've gotten worse since you were last conscious. Get better before you get sappy, Jekyll."

While aggravating, Hyde did have a point. Although he wanted nothing more than to thank each and every one of them for their concern, Henry had to focus on getting well before anything. It was why he found his eyes pulling closed once more, and he listened to the fading noises of the lodgers scurrying around him as he drifted off into unconsciousness once more.


End file.
